I Volunteer for Whatever Comes My Way
by trickle-of-thoughts
Summary: A few short chapters I wrote up for a friend. A look at before the games, and during the games, if things between Peeta and Katniss had gone differently. Takes place in the first book/movie. Hope you enjoy!
1. Bread of Life

**A/N: Birthday gift for Mellie! Happy birthday month!**

 **Quick note: I haven't read the book in _years_ so I'm basing their appearances on their looks in the movie. **

**This is pre-movie, and I guess sort of an AU situation? I hope no one seems OOC. Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been a year. Katniss paced, bow slung across her chest and the quiver over her shoulders. She hadn't been successful today, but she didn't want to go back home in fear of feeling too suffocated. She'd thought about it, for a year. _He's not going to remember,_ she thought, but another part of her told her she should do it anyways. Prim always told her they should be grateful for everything good that happened to them. (Especially with the reaping coming up.) That included the baker's boy tossing her burnt bread as she faded away in the freezing rain.

Damn her little sister for being right. Nonetheless, a smile and a breathy laugh escaped her lips. It was quick to disappear, however, as she focused on the task at hand that she had just put upon herself. Katniss knew she wasn't very...articulate. She was closed in, in fact, and the only people she could stand to talk to everyday were Gale and, naturally, Prim.

Making her way back to stow her weapons and slip back through the "high voltage" fence, she became angry that it had taken her an entire year to decide what to do, what to say. What even was his name? Mel...Mellark. Peter? Peeta. The voice of his mother rebuking him for burning the bread in the first place rang shrilly in her mind. It had drawn her attention to him in the first place. Pity had been clear in his eyes as he, in turn, had spotted her. She hated it when people felt bad for her. But...it had brought her food. She was in no place to reject such a thing in her then-current state. Katniss had had hardly the energy to do so even if she wanted anyways, she was only able to drag herself toward it and pick it up, bring it to her lips, and take a bite...

Peeta had saved her life.

Katniss stalked back into the confines of District 12, grasping at the edge of the sleeves of her father's leather jacket as home came into view. She had stopped to trade a few things, to pick up some herbs Prim had asked for. Leaving them safely in her mother's hands so Buttercup couldn't eat or do something stupid with them, off she went again. The young woman was unable to keep her eyes from scanning the tree she'd leaned against- even though it didn't do a thing to shield her from the rain- on that day, as she watched the pigs get fed.

She had to work herself up before she saw Peeta. By the looks of it, he was hauling bags of flour inside. On the second trip out, she opened her mouth. "Hey," she said.

It wasn't demanding, as she feared it might come out, but like a normal greeting. He turned to face her, brow raised. Recognition washed over his features, and he gave a faint nod. "...Katniss?"

Now it was her turn to nod. And then stand there like a fish, her mouth gaping like she didn't know how to talk. This seemed to amuse him, _just_ slightly, though he couldn't have known why she was here, but she picked up on it. Snapping her jaw shut, she looked down to his hands, one resting at his side and the other on the next bag of flour he was about to pick up.

Certainly, Peeta had grown since she last saw him. He didn't look quite as dirty at the moment, and just a little more filled out, but not necessarily well-fed by any means. His hair was an increment longer, features more mature. A year had done a lot.

"You know...that day you gave me the bread, right, I just wanted to say, uh, thanks. Thank you," she managed to get out.

Katniss thought she saw his gaze soften a bit, but couldn't have been sure. "Of course."

His voice...it sounded like he'd known her forever. Something minute in her almost wished he did.

"I'm serious."

Peeta smiled, nodded, offered her a small basket. It smelled like bread, warm and fresh. "Take this. 'S for you and your family."

She could only blink and accept it, smiling back, but not of her own accord. She didn't have to thank him a second time.

"You like rye, right? Uh...rye bread?"

The inquiry caught her off guard, but she relaxed into her smile. How did he know? "Yeah, actually."

Peeta chuckled when his suspicion was confirmed. "You always picked the rye sandwiches for lunch at school."

 _Oh._

Katniss laughed, almost as though to dispel any awkwardness she'd been harboring. His dark eyes gazing into hers were now most definitely depicting amusement. Clutching the basket to her chest, one hand picking at her dirt caked fingernails she knew she had from her morning in the woods, they pursued small talk. Prim had been right.

Little did she know, she would soon share more of her fate than she ever thought possible with the baker's boy named Peeta Mellark, from District 12.

It all started with the reaping...

 _"I volunteer as Tribute!"_

How far away that day seemed, Katniss thought, gazing from an injured Peeta to the bleak sky she could see from their little cave...


	2. This Isn't What I Wanted

**A/N: Another for Mellie, this one taking place during the movie. Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been agonizing, watching Peeta, who she'd irrevocably fallen in love with, heal so slowly. His leg looked downright awful, and he winced every time he moved. Katniss hated to have to clean it every day, watching him turn white as a sheet and grimace, sucking in air through his teeth as a sweat broke over his brow. She didn't dislike it because it was disgusting. By now especially, if she was proven to have a queasy stomach, it would've been a miracle that she'd made it this far.

She hated it because of how much damn _pain_ he was in. She could see it, feel it. His body quivered as she let water wash over the wound, his flesh a smarting pink. The blood had dried by now, his pants stained a rich crimson from when it was fresh.

"I love you," Peeta had said, the pain evident in his eyes.

Katniss could only smile sadly and press a kiss to his clammy cheek, returning the words on her lips, but not with her voice.

It was that same day she'd broken her promise to not go after the bag of supplies at the Cornucopia the Gamemakers had left. When Clove slammed into her, she thought she'd made a _grave_ mistake. The sight of a knife confirmed that- so she thought- her adrenaline spiking as she ended up on the bottom of a very angry brunette from District 2.

The weight, all of a sudden, was gone. Looking up, breathing hard from the struggle that she felt had lasted an eternity, was the face of Thresh, a blur as he slammed Clove repeatedly against the wall of the Cornucopia. She screamed for Cato— until she didn't.

Her body crumpled to the ground, eyes still open, her face blank. She was dead.

"Just this time, 12. For Rue!" Thresh's eyes were brimming with fury, and at the same time, sorrow, before he bolted for his own safety.

Katniss was able to get back with nothing but a slash to her forehead that she didn't even notice, that is, until Peeta pointed it out.

* * *

The mutts were horrifying as all hell.

Their large, blocky heads snapped their mangled teeth, their stocky bodies having no trouble weaving to follow Peeta and Katniss through the arena. Their eyes were _too_ human, and it was to their disgust to discover they were the eyes of their fallen victims. They _had_ to get to the Cornucopia; if they didn't, they were dead. Just like President Snow wanted.

She knew exactly what she started when she saluted the cameras after Rue's death.

She thanked the programmed stars above that Peeta's limp had subsided after being given time to heal- even though it was still noticeable. Katniss herself had suffered some sort of wound she hadn't been able to take much time to look at, what, with being chased under the threat of her life is all. One of the mutts had jumped on her when they popped out of the Gamemakers' sick minds and into this hell of a reality, and she was lucky it didn't all end right there. Her back ached, and she'd hit her now pounding head. She had no doubt that she was bleeding. Somewhere.

The Cornucopia, damn that thing, she _hated_ the sight of it now, but it came into view and Katniss knew it was their only hope.

Grabbing Peeta's hand, she gave it everything she had, throwing herself at the structure that gleamed so cruelly in the fake moonlight, not bothering to look back to see how close the mutts were. She helped him up first before he pulled her up—

Searing pain. One of the dogs had latched onto her leg, whipping its head back and forth, pulling...she thought she was losing her grip— _no,_ no, just a little more, _wait_...!

Peeta pulled her up, panic having flooded him at the sight of her slipping from his grasp. As soon as he'd hauled her up, he pulled her into his arms, tightly, pressing desperate kisses into her hair. He breathed deeply, trying to calm down, and Katniss heard his heart pound in his chest. She also heard how voracious the mutts were, having tasted her blood. Pain shot up her leg. She _couldn't_ look down at it. They had to do this now.

Kneeling on her good leg, she reached around to grab her quiver.

...

It was gone.

Her eyes caught sight of it then, dread filling her and making her want to vomit as her stomach lurched. It was on the ground, a few feet behind the mutts. Peeta had backed up, without a weapon, but still looking around wildly for something to end this nightmare, a spear, a stick, something.

 _Shit...shit shit shit._

Katniss felt her throat tighten, and she struggled to get on two feet. He was at her side immediately, and gave her a once over. He instantly knew what was wrong, but didn't expect _this._

"I need you to shoot straight."

 _What?_

His head spun.

"I'm serious, Peeta." Her voice broke, and, and...he'd never heard her sound so defeated.

"Wait, Katniss-"

He was silenced with just a look, and his dark gaze, usually so warm when he looked at her, trailing down to look at how bad her wound was. He paled.

"I don't have a chance. I know I'm not long even if we do kill all of them." She sounded frustrated, impatient, disappointed. In herself. This was the last thing she'd planned on doing.

By the expression on his face, he begged to differ. Begged. But it would do no good, his chest- his _heart-_ ached too much to speak anyways.

She promised. She'd promised Prim. She'd promised _him._

"I love you." There. She'd said it. Out loud.

He needed to know.

Her legs numbed, and she clambered down the opposite side while Peeta distracted the mutts. She made a run for it then, hurling her quiver up to him with all the strength she had left in her, before the mutts smelled her blood. Just as she knew they would.

They were on top of Katniss in an instant, and she didn't want to, she hadn't wanted to, but she couldn't help but scream as they ripped, tore, pounced, _crushed..._

Katniss screamed his name. It echoed in the arena, in agony. Broken, her voice was. With pain. He winced and froze, feeling as though his organs had been heaved from his chest. In a frenzy, he shot, hoping that maybe...if he killed them all _fast_ enough, that she would still be alive...

The canon sounded, a picture of Katniss coming to life in the sky.

Peeta felt his heart sink and he fell to his knees, unable to come close to describing the pain... _god_...the loss...this was all _his_ fault...

The mutts fell silent, peeling off to vanish in the forest. Oh _god_...what had he done...no, this wasn't supposed to happen.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end.

...

"Ladies and gentlemen," came Seneca Crane's voice overhead.

" _May I present the victor...of the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games_."


	3. For Mel, Really

**A/N: For you, Mel. Forgive me. Hahah**

 **Here's an alternate ending to this story.**

* * *

 _"May I present the victor, of the seventy-fourth annual...Hunger Games."_

 _games...games...games..._

Peeta woke with a start, his arm, unbeknownst to him, tightening around the sleeping form of Katniss beside him.

His heart was pounding in the most unsettling of ways, beating unevenly. He felt too warm, almost sticky, but cold at the same time. He looked down. Katniss. She was here. With that same hand, he brushed back some of her hair, almost afraid that he'd see a bloody and marred face that would confirm his suspicion of her being dead and this being a cruel trick of the Capitol.

No...she was alive. Alive. She was breathing. No blood. Alive. He took _several_ deep breaths, only stopping when they didn't come out quivering and unstable. Katniss took note and sat up, looking worriedly at him. "Are you okay?" her voice was hoarse, and she rubbed her eyes.

"Yeah..." He offered a weak smile, and she returned it.

Last night...the mutts, that was all real. But they'd gone back after that, to where they were safe. The cave. She had yet to tell Peeta of her plan to eat the nightlock berries at the same time to prevent either one of them having to live without the other. At this point, it would be impossible. She'd have never thought it a month ago, but she didn't have to _play_ the part of a star crossed lover anymore.

What a cruel world. She almost thought pretending had been so much easier. But now she was attached. And he always had been.

Katniss felt his forehead. He seemed closer to normal now, and leaning over to peer at his leg, that seemed improved too, even given the strain it had been put through last night. She crawled over to their bag and opened it, revealing a small bag of food. Upon inspection, she deducted it might last them to days, with strict rationing. Briefly, she wondered how much weight she'd lost since the games had commenced, but shook herself from those thoughts and gave Peeta some food before indulging in some herself.

Peeta, on the other hand, could only watch her, this time his heart aching for the fact that that _nightmare_ wasn't a reality. _She_ was still here. He still had a reason to fight.

 _End._


End file.
